Breaking Down
by lrritable-vowel-types
Summary: Stranded in her broken-down car in a snowstorm, Michiru calls the local mechanic for help. (Spoiler: Things don't go as she thinks they will.)
1. Chapter 1

"Eight to twelve _hours_? Are you _kidding_ me?" Michiru incredulously asked the woman on the phone. "I could freeze to death!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the crackly voice replied, "but like I said, all of our tow trucks are busy assisting other stranded vehicles—"

Michiru hung up on the roadside assistance agent in frustration. After leaving the highway in a snowstorm to get much-needed gas in a nearby town, Michiru had hit a slick spot on the snowy, deserted road leading back to the highway, lost control of her car, and wound up in a snow bank. Though the impact was minor, her car now wouldn't start and was quickly becoming buried in the heavy snowfall.

Placing her cell phone in her lap, she desperately tried the ignition again. As before, the engine cranked but steadfastly refused to start.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" she swore as she smacked the dead car's steering wheel with her gloved palms. The cheerful melodies of _A Prairie Home Companion_ drifted from the radio, mocking her.

"Fuck you, Garrison Keillor," she said turning off the radio, somehow instantly feeling guilty for swearing at the affable radio host.

Michiru's shaky hands gripped the steering wheel as she attempted to calm herself, but the heady mix of anxiety and adrenaline from the crash was still coursing through her veins. Eventually she turned off the windshield wipers, sighing as the snowy forest illuminated by her headlights was obscured from her view snowflake by snowflake.

Placing her forehead on the top of the steering wheel, she tried to think.

Eight to twelve hours for a tow truck. No, that was simply unacceptable. In twelve hours she was supposed to be starting her first day of teaching at Northwaters College, not freezing in a broken-down car in The Middle of Nowhere, Wisconsin.

Determining that doing nothing and freezing to death in her car was the least-palatable option, she decided to try calling the gas station she had just left at about 10 miles back. It was situated on the edge of a town so tiny it was unlikely to be able to offer much help, but it was still her best lead at the moment. Thankfully, the gas station attendant picked up after only a few rings, and Michiru quickly explained her predicament.

"Your best bet," he told her, "is Tenoh."

"Tenoh?"

"Tenoh Auto Works," he explained. "Just outside of town. It's pretty late so you'll probably have to call a few times, but Tenoh lives above the repair shop so just keep trying."

Thanking the attendant, Michiru quickly took his advice. As he predicted, no one answered and the call went to voicemail. She hung up and tried again. And again. And again.

Finally, after seven attempts, a gruff voice answered.

"What?"

"Hello, is this Tenoh Auto Works?" Michiru asked, relieved.

The voice on the other end grunted an affirmative reply.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but my car slid off the road and died and I'm stranded. The man at the Gas 'N' Go told me to call you for assistance."

"Call AAA."

"I did, but they said they wouldn't be able to get a tow truck to me for eight to twelve hours because of the storm."

The person on the phone sighed.

"Please," Michiru said, "I'm stranded and absolutely desperate. You're my only hope in this snow."

Michiru heard another sigh. Then, "Give me your model, make, and location."

"Oh my gosh, thank you! I'm in a black Honda Civic with Illinois plates and uh . . ." Michiru paused as she fumbled to look at her maps app as quickly as possible. "I'm on Maplewood Road, about halfway between Winchester Waters and Route 51."

"I'll be there within an hour."

"Thank you so . . ." Michiru trailed off when her phone beeped, indicating the other person had ended the call. She pursed her lips but couldn't get too upset, considering Tenoh had agreed to come to her rescue in the end.

In an effort to save her car's battery, Michiru turned off the headlights, plunging the car into darkness, save for rhythmic red glow of her hazards filtering through the snow on her rear window. She sighed and was unsurprised to see a burst of fog from her breath; the engine had long gone cold, and so too had the inside of her car.

Michiru figured it would be best to next call Northwaters College's dean to explain her predicament, but only got her voicemail. She left a message assuring her that she would do everything she could to get there in time for class in the morning and promising to call with any updates.

Hanging up, Michiru bit her lip. She had the sense that the dean wasn't terribly impressed with her for whatever reason—her lack of teaching experience perhaps, or maybe her unconventional artistic background. The dean had made it well known during the selection process that she preferred a local educator over Michiru, but the department head battled hard for Michiru and prevailed. Michiru was justifiably worried that the dean would try to replace her with her preferred choice if she failed to show up for term on time. She just had to hope that the repair was quick and that she could be back on her way in an hour or two.

Wrapping her coat tighter in the falling temperature, she grabbed the bag of cheese curds she impulsively bought at the Gas 'N' Go and began snacking, waiting for help to arrive. She let out a sigh of relief when the glow of headlights lit up her snow-covered windows about thirty minutes later.

Leaving the safety of her car, she waded through the snow, wishing she'd worn warmer pants than thermal leggings and actual snow boots instead of cable-knit UGG's, but eventually made it to the road. The tow truck driver—a masculine figure shrouded in a thick parka—was waiting for her.

"Thank you so much for coming to get me," Michiru said as she approached the driver, whose youthful but sullen face was partially obscured by a beanie and hood. Michiru was surprised; from the phone conversation she was expecting a middle-aged man, not someone her own age. "I'm Michiru, by the way," she added.

"Haruka Tenoh," the driver said, clearly scrutinizing Michiru's appearance, and not looking terribly impressed. "So, what happened here?"

"I just hit a slick spot or something, I don't know," Michiru explained, feeling slightly self-conscious under Haruka's piercing stare. "I just suddenly started fishtailing and then I was in the snow bank. I wasn't going all that fast but now the car won't start."

"Where are the keys?"

"They're in the ignition."

"Go wait in the truck while I prep the car."

Michiru gratefully walked to the enormous truck, pulling open the passenger's side door to sit in the blissfully warm cab. She was still working on warming her fingers (her toes were a lost cause) when Haruka returned, skillfully backed the truck up to Michiru's car, and jumped out again. Haruka was in and out of the truck several times more times, first pulling the car from the snow bank, maneuvering the vehicles, then finally securing the car for towing. Eventually, the mechanic finished the task and they were on their way, the plow attached to the front of the truck making quick work of the accumulating snow.

"Thank you again for coming to get me," Michiru said as they traveled down the snowy road. "I was afraid I was going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere forever!"

Haruka grunted. They rode in silence, eventually skirting the edge of the tiny town of Winchester Waters and passing the now-closed gas station before continuing on.

"Gosh there's really nothing up here, is there? I would go crazy living here . . ."

Haruka didn't answer.

"I'm on my way to Northwaters College," Michiru explained, breaking the silence. "I'm teaching there for the spring semester, which starts tomorrow."

She paused, waiting for a response. None came.

"I'm taking over for an art professor who's going on sabbatical," she continued, preferring the sound of her own voice over uncomfortable silence. "It's not something I ever thought I'd do but the department really wanted me since I'm kind of a well-known artist and I figured, well, why not?"

Nothing.

Michiru was starting to wonder what Haruka's deal was. She wasn't stupid—she knew she was an attractive and charismatic woman who typically had people eating out of her hand in no time if she so wished. Men in particular were usually quite eager to engage with her and susceptible to her charms. What was this guy's _problem_?

"Listen, Haruka . . . it's really important that I be there tomorrow morning for the first day of class, so . . . if there's any way you could possibly get the car fixed tonight—"

"FIBs . . ." Haruka muttered.

"Excuse me?" Michiru turned, her eyebrows raised at Haruka's response.

"FIBs," Haruka loudly repeated. "Fucking Illinois Bastards. Y'know, people who come up here, don't know how to drive, and act like they're better than us. Namely, people like you."

Michiru stared at Haruka's profile in shock.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You're from Chicago, right?"

"Well, yeah—"

"Yeah, I could tell," Haruka sneered, giving a quick glance at the freshly dyed teal hair tumbling out from under Michiru's hat. "People like you, you're all the same. Acting like some pampered princess. Think you can snap your fingers and get what you want."

"A pampered . . . I do not . . ." Michiru sputtered, trying to formulate a response.

"Lady, it's 10 o'clock at night, you made me come get you in a snowstorm, and now you think you can demand that I stay up all night fixing your car?"

Fuming, Michiru turned away from Haruka to stare straight ahead. How could Haruka be so uncaring? She'd tried to be nice, tried to make conversation . . . Sure, it was late and the weather was bad, but it's not like she _chose_ to crash! What other choice did she have?

Michiru shook her head. Realizing she needed to calm down if she ever had a chance of convincing Haruka to fix her car that night, she breathed deeply several times until she felt in control enough to respond.

"Look. I'm sorry if I said or did something that offended you. I was stranded, I need your help, I'm willing to pay whatever, so just, please try to fix my car, OK?"

"You think I need your money that bad? Do you even have anywhere to stay?"

"Well hopefully it's a quick fix and I won't _need_ anywhere to stay."

"I bet you don't even have snow tires . . ."

Michiru's silence was all the answer Haruka needed.

"Yep, thought so."

Michiru turned her head to stare out of the passenger's window, hoping Haruka wouldn't notice the few angry tears that managed to escape, and they sat in stony silence for the remainder of the ride.

The tow truck had barely pulled up to the shop before Michiru had hopped out of the cab to put as much distance between herself and Haruka as possible. She pouted in the snow, fuming over Haruka's refusal to work on her car that night, facing the pitch-black forest rather than watch Haruka transfer the car into the garage.

Eventually a side door opened and Haruka leaned out.

"You gonna sleep out there tonight, Princess?"

"I was considering it," she said into the darkness.

"Well, it's your choice, I guess," Haruka said.

Michiru turned to find Haruka gone, but the door still open. She scowled, but her frozen feet and hands soon overpowered her pride.

Inside, she found a surprisingly spacious garage. Three cars were parked inside, though the one parked beside the far wall was missing its hood and most of its innards. Michiru's black Civic was next to a sturdy-looking car that was hoisted high on a hydraulic lift. Various tools and rags were scattered about and an ancient 70's-pattered sofa sat against the wall near the side door Michiru had entered. To her left was a plain wooden staircase leading to a closed-off loft. Below the loft was a bathroom and an office space of sorts. An office phone and an enormous beige desktop computer Michiru assumed hadn't been on the market for at least 15 years sat on a desk littered with papers and a boom box sat on the floor near the work area, blasting 80s hard rock. Michiru didn't bother to ask Haruka to turn it down.

Haruka pointed to the garishly pattered sofa. "Your royal chambers."

Michiru studied the sagging couch, wondering if she should just have Haruka tow her back to the road so she could wait in the snow and take her chances with AAA instead.

"Get whatever you want out of the car now," Haruka continued, "before I start working on it. I don't want you getting in my way when I'm working."

Michiru stared, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "You're going to work on it now?"

"Sooner I fix it, sooner I get my garage back. But if you really wanna spend all night here—"

"No! No, just give me one minute." Relief washed over Michiru—all of Haruka's previous sins forgiven. Giddy with hope that the night could be salvaged after all, she ran to her car and grabbed a few essentials—purse, computer, phone charger, sketchpad, and, of course, the leftover cheese curds. She looked over to where Haruka was hanging up the snow-covered parka and beanie to give thanks, but had to hold back a gasp of surprise as she saw Haruka properly for the first time.

Her knight in oil-stained armor was . . . a _woman._

A very, _very_ attractive woman.

She watched mesmerized as Haruka hung up her hat, tossed her head back and shook out her short hair, running strong fingers through her blonde locks, somehow winding up looking effortlessly windblown. She looked so capable and rugged, so unlike anything Michiru was used to . . .

Haruka looked over to Michiru and noticed her staring.

"What?" she snapped.

Michiru shook her head, sighing. Yep, still the same old Haruka.

"Nothing," she said, hoping she wasn't blushing as she scurried over to the couch.

Haruka immediately put on work gloves, made her way to the Civic, popped the hood, and went to work.

Michiru peeled off her own soggy coat and hat, shaking the melting snow out of both items, then laid them across the far arm of the sofa to dry. Next, Michiru hunted down a free socket and plugged in her phone, then grabbed her purse and slipped into the bathroom.

"Oh, lovely look, Michiru," she told herself, scrunching her nose at her messy reflection. Between the snow and her tears of frustration, her mascara and eyeliner had smudged horribly, giving her the look of a slightly psychotic panda. She immediately set to work fixing her make up and her deflated, tangled hat hair, brushing and cajoling it until it once again fell in smooth waves.

Finally satisfied that she looked somewhat like herself again, she returned to the sofa and took off her damp UGG's, positioning them near a heat register so they could dry faster. Slightly more comfortable, she got out her computer and curled up on the ancient couch, which bowed dramatically below her.

"Hey, Haruka?"

A grunt in reply indicated that she was listening.

"What's your wifi?"

"Does it look like I have wifi?"

Michiru stared. "But . . . how do you use your phone?"

Haruka looked up, one eyebrow raised. "You don't need wifi to use a phone."

"Yes, but what about your apps and stuff?"

Haruka rolled her eyes, pulling a chunky gray Nokia phone from her back pocket and holding it up.

"This baby works just fine. No apps necessary," she explained before pocketing the phone again and returning to her work.

Michiru sighed in defeat. No wifi . . . just perfect. And the shitty cell network in the middle of the forest meant social media wasn't going to save her sanity this night.

She closed her now-useless laptop and set it down, picking up the sketchpad in its place, but after flipping through to an empty page, she felt utterly uninspired to draw anything. After several attempts, she gave up and abandoned the sketchpad as well.

In a last-ditch attempt to entertain herself, Michiru got up and explored the garage, though there wasn't much to look at. An out-of-date calendar featuring a busty girl in a bikini draped across a motorcycle was prominently displayed and few posters of shiny cars hung in random places. A collection of photographs was haphazardly arranged on the wall near the computer. Michiru was unsurprised to find that they featured vehicles—mostly vintage muscle cars—but in an effort to pass the time, she spent as much time as she could bear looking at each. Haruka was in quite a few, often shaking hands with various ecstatically happy people. After successfully wasting a whole 30 minutes, Michiru returned to the sofa.

No Internet. No TV. Not even a measly car magazine to entertain her.

She was bored out of her mind.

Michiru snatched up the bag of cheese and popped a curd in her mouth. As she chewed, her eyes fell on the only thing left of interest in the garage: the woman repairing her car. She watched as Haruka continued to work under the hood, occasionally pulling up random wire or part for closer inspection, an intense look of concentration on her face. After a few minutes, Haruka paused in her work to stand up a stretch a bit, rotating her shoulders and pulling her arms this way and that.

As Michiru watched, she pondered the prickly mechanic. Sure, Haruka was grumpy and rude, but she was just so . . . different from anyone Michiru had met in a long time. Something about Haruka made her feel slightly off balance and out of her element, like she wasn't sure what would happen next. Still, a little uncertainty and excitement wasn't necessarily a _bad_ thing . . .

Haruka stood, pushing her bangs back with the crook of her elbow, then shoved her sleeves up, revealing perfectly toned forearms. Michiru bit her lip as she studied her every move and ogled every inch of skin, feeling a slight blush creep across her nose.

Then again, maybe her intrigue was something else entirely . . .

Michiru smiled as she finally figured out a way to pass the time. Picking her sketchpad back up, she once again flipped to a new page, only this time, she had no trouble finding something to draw. Figure after figure soon took shape on the page, dynamic in pose and movement, as she studied and sketched her subject.

Deciding she needed a closer look, Michiru grabbed the office chair from in front of the ancient computer and rolled it over to the work area. Haruka looked up at the ruckus the chair was making, but returned to her work once Michiru settled into the seat. Michiru quickly got back to sketching, giving Haruka brief glances as she worked.

Haruka did her best to stay on task, but after a while could no longer ignore Michiru's presence.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking up.

"Keeping myself entertained," Michiru replied, continuing to sketch.

Haruka narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, probably drawing me as the devil or something."

Michiru laughed. "Nope, just a normal figure study," she said, turning the sketchpad around to show Haruka, whose eyebrows furrowed when she saw Michiru's work. There Haruka was, sketched in various poses, artistically replicated in black and white.

"See? No devil horns," Michiru said as she turned her sketchpad back around.

Haruka stood and stared for a moment, eyebrows still furrowed, watching as Michiru returned to her sketching.

"You . . . did a nice job," she mumbled as she turned to return to her work.

Michiru grinned at the unexpected compliment.

"How's the repair going?" she asked after a few minutes of silence, continuing to sketch.

"I haven't located the cause of the problem yet but there are still a few things I need to try."

"You'll figure it out. I trust you."

Haruka looked up at this. "You do?" she asked incredulously.

"Sure," Michiru said. "You're a professional. You obviously know what you're doing."

"Right . . ." She furrowed her brow again as she continued to tinker. "So," she said, not looking up from the car, "that's the kind of art you do? You draw stuff?"

Michiru smiled, pleasantly surprised that Haruka was willing to engage in a friendly—if slightly stilted—conversation. "Mmm, sometimes I draw or paint, but I'm mostly known for my large-scale art installations."

"Art installations?"

"Installation art is when an artist creates a three-dimensional artwork in a space. It's meant to be immersive . . . to not just be a picture on a wall but a whole experience. Installation artists use all sorts of materials, like glass, light, sound . . . anything they want, really."

"Huh. And you use . . . ?" Haruka asked, no longer pretending to be only interested in the car in front of her.

"My specialty is installations involving water and mirrors. That's what I'm best known for, anyway," she explained, her eyes occasionally flickering up to Haruka as she continued work on her sketch.

"Huh," Haruka said a bit skeptically.

"And you?" Michiru asked. "You mostly just fix up cars?"

"You could say that," Haruka said, standing up fully and crossing her arms.

"Those pictures by your desk," Michiru mentioned, waving a breezy hand toward the office, "what are those about?"

"I do some custom work and restoration for select clients. See that car over there?" she said, pointing to the hollowed-out car sitting by the wall. "That's my next project. I'll be spending the next few months restoring the body, upgrading the electrical system, brakes, stuff like that."

"And that keeps you busy?"

"Busy enough, I guess."

Michiru sketched in silence for a few moments, then asked, "What about your free time?"

"My free time?" Haruka's brows knit at the question.

"Yeah," Michiru said, chuckling, "like, what do you and your friends do for fun?"

Haruka shook her head, turning away from Michiru. "I like to keep to myself."

Michiru narrowed her eyes. "There must be something you do to keep from going stir-crazy. I can't picture you sitting in your garage all day every day."

Haruka leaned back on the car. "There are a lot of days like that, to be honest." She shook her head again, though this time a smile was on her face. "Sometimes I get so absorbed in my work that I'll forget to eat or wind up working all night."

Michiru laughed. "I know how that goes. Sometimes I'll be working in my studio in the middle of the day, and next thing I know it's pitch black outside. I just get so focused on what I'm doing that everything else melts away."

"Exactly. When I'm in the zone, I can spend days in here, totally cut off." Haruka paused, tapping her fingers on the side of the car. "But to be honest, even I have my limits."

"Oh yeah?" Michiru leaned forward, grinning. "And what happens when you reach your limit?"

Haruka studied Michiru, clearly mulling something over. Finally, a cocky smirk bloomed on her face.

"C'mon, Princess," she said, pulling off her grease-covered work gloves. "You wanna see what I do for fun? Get your coat and I'll show you."

* * *

Finally, a HaruMichi fic! I wrote the outline to this in LAST JANUARY after driving through a terrible snowstorm. Sorry guys, I wish I wasn't such a slow writer! Better late than never, right? And not to worry, the rest of the fic is nearly done, so you won't be waiting long for the rest of the fic. Hope you enjoyed chapter 1!

Shout out, as always, to my awesome bae-ta Antigone2, who is my constant cheerleader and gives the best feedback a girl could ever hope for.

(My apologies to Garrison Keillor.)


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon, Princess," Haruka said. "You wanna see what I do for fun? Get your coat and I'll show you."

Michiru blinked in surprise before quickly setting down her sketchpad and scurrying over to the sofa to put her boots, coat, and hat back on. By the time she was ready, Haruka was standing by a door on the opposite side of the garage—similarly outfitted in her parka, boots, and beanie—waiting for her.

"Out here," she said, opening the door and stepping out into the cold night.

Looking out, Michiru saw that a bright floodlight near the door was illuminating a second, slightly smaller garage about 50 feet away. The snow had slowed considerably, with only a few flakes floating in the inky black sky. Michiru followed after Haruka, trying to match the taller woman's much longer strides in the deep snow.

"OK, Princess," Haruka said once Michiru met her at the door. "Here's what I do for fun."

Opening the door, she turned on the light to reveal a garage full of shiny motorcycles, beat-up dirt bikes, and various other vehicles. Countless trophies, medals, and photos were displayed on the walls. Michiru looked over at Haruka, who wore a satisfied smirk.

"I like fixing up cars of course," she said as they walked further into the garage, "and it pays the bills, but my real love is racing. I try to do at least half a dozen a year."

Michiru was in awe as Haruka took her around, showing off her various motorcycles and awards. Photo after photo on the walls depicted a windswept and smiling Haruka standing atop podiums, trophies in her hands or medals around her neck. Michiru was free with her compliments and questions and what was left of Haruka's aloof demeanor quickly crumbled under Michiru's admiration. She grew more relaxed and talkative as she showed off, bragging about all of the competitions she'd won.

"But not all of my motorcycles are for racing," Haruka explained after they'd made it most of the way through the garage. "This baby here," she said, patting an enormous Harley outfitted in black leather, "is purely for pleasure. I customized it myself . . . new windshield, 16-inch ape hanger handlebars, updated the exhaust and seat, had these saddlebags custom made. Every June I close up shop for a month and ride. Just me, my bike, and the open road. It's the best feeling in the world."

"That sounds so amazing," Michiru said, running a hand along the black leather seat.

"Here," Haruka said with a grin, grabbing Michiru by the waist and hoisting her onto the back of the motorcycle.

Michiru laughed as she tried to position her body properly. "These handlebars are ridiculous!" she said, reaching up awkwardly to grab the comically long handles. "I don't know how you can do this for more than a few minutes."

"Nah, you get used to it. Here, scoot back." Haruka mounted the motorcycle as Michiru moved toward the rear, then leaned back and grabbed the handlebars. "See?" she said, turning her head slightly.

"Yep. A perfect fit." Michiru nodded, her face only a few inches away from Haruka's. Michiru noticed Haruka's gaze flick down to her lips, then moisten her own. She held her breath as Haruka brought her face closer . . . then turned her head quickly to face forward again.

Michiru blinked, wondering what had happened. Clearing her throat as Haruka slid off of the motorcycle, she wondering if she had imagined the near-kiss.

"It's uh . . . too bad we can't take it out for a spin," she told Haruka.

Haruka turned, a smirk on her face. "C'mere, Princess," she said, helping Michiru off the bike and leading her toward one of the garage doors. Amid the motorcycles were a few ATVs and snowmobiles, ready for action.

"I can't drive one of those!" Michiru said. "I don't know how!"

"Well you'll just have to ride with me then," Haruka replied, going to a shelf and picking up two helmets. "Your crown," she said, presenting one to Michiru.

"Are you serious? It's the middle of the night!"

"You have something better to do?" Haruka asked, enticingly rocking the helmet in her palm.

Michiru considered the offer. True it was getting very late, and she desperately needed to get her car fixed. Was it wise to waste even more time going on a joy ride with her mechanic? But when she saw the hopeful look not quite hidden beneath the cocky grin on Haruka's face, she knew she couldn't say no.

"Something better to do?" Michiru grinned and shook her head. "I suppose I don't."

This time she accepted the helmet when Haruka again offered it to her.

It didn't take Haruka long to maneuver one of the snowmobiles out into the deep snow and get it ready. Soon the engine was running and she was beckoning Michiru, who was waiting by the door.

Shoving the helmet onto her head, Michiru once again followed Haruka's tracks through the snow, then took a seat behind her on the snowmobile. She settled in, loosely wrapping her arms around Haruka's midriff.

"You'd better hold on tighter than that," Haruka told her.

Michiru complied, snuggling closer and tightening her grip a bit.

"You ready?" Haruka asked.

Michiru nodded, then squealed as the snowmobile lurched forward. She could hear Haruka's laughter over the noise of the engine as she threw out all sense of propriety, holding onto Haruka with all her might.

Soon they left the light of Haruka's garages, entering the dark forest at a higher speed than Michiru thought wise, though Haruka's skill and familiarity with the terrain quickly became apparent. She deftly weaved through the trees, picking out the trail with ease.

Though Michiru's grip remained tight, she relaxed, starting to enjoy the ride. She quickly caught on to the rhythm of the snowmobile, leaning with Haruka as they took on every twist and turn. The black trees passed in a blur, snow whipping up around them, but Haruka's warm body shielded Michiru from the brunt of the cold air and snow.

Michiru's stomach dropped as they headed down an embankment, turning onto a snowy, frozen stream. Now, on a relatively smooth surface clear of obstacles, Haruka picked up speed, racing over the frozen water. Michiru looked up, seeing a glimpse of stars between the black trees standing on either side of the stream's banks. Then, suddenly, the trees melted away, revealing a sky filled with stars, marred by the occasional cloud still left over from the storm. Michiru looked ahead, realizing that the stream had led them to a large, snow-covered lake, its pure-white surface reflecting the moonlight now shining down upon them.

As Haruka raced ahead, Michiru returned her gaze to the night sky. Even through the visor of the helmet she was awed—never had she seen so many stars. Loosening her grip a bit, she tipped her head back farther. Wind whipping past their speeding snowmobile, trusting that Haruka was in complete and total control, Michiru closed her eyes, feeling as if she were flying. It was utterly exhilarating.

As they approached the center of the lake, Haruka began slowing down. Soon they stopped, and Haruka turned off the noisy engine, plunging them into silence. Michiru could suddenly hear every breath she took, echoed within her helmet.

Haruka hopped off of the snowmobile, then turned to help Michiru off as well. They pulled off their helmets, leaving them on the seat. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they walked onto the lake and away from the vehicle.

Michiru looked up again, enjoying an unobstructed view of the night sky. She laughed, spreading her arms and twirling in the snow. The field of stars resonated deep within her, making her feel so utterly inconsequential and yet so important, simply by being part of the universe.

"Well, Princess," Haruka said, hands on her hips, "what do you think?"

Michiru shook her head. "It's amazing. I've never seen so many stars in my whole life!"

Haruka sat down in the snow, smiling as she watched Michiru's childlike glee. "Can't get this in the city, can you?"

Michiru laughed, plopping down beside Haruka. "Nope. At home I'm lucky if I see more than a handful of stars."

"See?" Haruka said as she laid back, putting her gloved hands behind her head. "City life is totally overrated."

"Well, I wouldn't say _that,_ " Michiru said, lying beside Haruka. "There are a lot of benefits to city life. The arts, the food, the shopping . . . and there's always something going on, some party or event or festival. Plus, where else can I get pizza at 3 in the morning?"

Haruka scoffed. "You want pizza? I got one in my freezer right now. Boom."

Michiru laughed. "Not quite the same."

"Yeah, well if city life is so wonderful," Haruka said, "why are you leaving it?"

"I'm not _leaving_ it, just . . . getting away for a few months."

"Yeah but why? If the city is so great, why bother leaving at all?"

"I just . . ." Michiru sighed. "I don't know. I . . . need a change, I guess."

They lapsed into silence, both looking at the sky.

"To tell you the truth," Michiru said slowly, "my career hasn't been going so well lately."

She continued to stare up as Haruka turned her head, watching Michiru's profile illuminated by the bright moon.

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't kidding when I said I was well-known. I used to be a big deal. _Used_ to be." She frowned, shaking her head at the sky. "When I graduated from college it felt like I could do no wrong. I was in all the art magazines, getting lots of great press, tons of commissions. But then, the last few years . . . I don't know. It feels like something is missing. Everything I try just falls flat. My commissions dried up." She swallowed as an unwelcome lump appeared in her throat. "When Northwaters called me, I thought maybe, just maybe, this could be what I needed. A chance for a new perspective. A chance to get out of my funk. A chance to find what's missing in my life." Michiru sniffed, hating herself for welling up in front of Haruka yet again.

"Hey," Haruka said, reaching a hand over to cup Michiru's face. Michiru turned, leaning into the warmth of Haruka's hand. "I saw those sketches. You've got this."

Michiru gave a watery chuckle. "Oh yeah? You know that from just a page of sketches?"

"Sure I do," she answered confidently. "You know what I saw on that page?"

"What?"

"Life. Spirit. Truth."

Michiru sniffled again at Haruka's sweet words.

"I know you think I'm just some uncultured hick," Haruka continued, "but I know more about art than you probably think, and I know good art when I see it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep."

Michiru looked into Haruka's eyes, seeing the depth of sincerity in her gaze. She smiled. "Thank you, Haruka."

Then, something shifted. Michiru felt like she was drowning in Haruka's eyes, eyes that were drawing nearer and nearer. Michiru licked her lips, her breath coming more quickly as Haruka leaned in . . .

Then, suddenly Haruka was on her back again, the hand that was cupping Michiru's face withdrawn, back to its place behind Haruka's head. Michiru blinked rapidly, wondering what exactly just happened. She rolled onto her back as well, trying to still her racing heart.

She definitely hadn't imagined it this time. Why did Haruka keep pulling away?

"Seriously though," Haruka said after a few moments of silence, "I don't know how you can stand living in Chicago."

Michiru's mouth opened a bit in shock. What just happened? How did they get back here again?

"C'mon Haruka . . ."

"No, really. The crime, the pollution, the noise . . . and the worst part by far are the people. City people are assholes."

"Seriously, Haruka?" Michiru shook her head.

"Out here, I'm free to live my life. People here know and look out for each other. City people? They don't give a shit about other people. You could be dying on the sidewalk and no one would stop to help."

"Haruka, stop," Michiru said, sitting up. "You're wrong."

"I'm not wrong," she countered, sitting up to glare at Michiru. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you have tons of experience with city people, hiding away out here in the middle of nowhere," she said angrily.

"You don't have a clue," Haruka said, turning away.

"So tell me! Because as of right now," Michiru said, standing up and crossing her arms, "there's only one asshole here, and it sure isn't me."

"You wanna know?" Haruka stood as well, stepping toward Michiru, who stood her ground. "I'm not from around here, for starters. I was raised in Manhattan."

Michiru furrowed her brow. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that.

"That's right, Princess. You want to know how I know about city people? It's because I was one."

"This is ridiculous. If you're from Manhattan, then you must know that—"

"I'll tell you what I must know," Haruka said, stepping closer. "I know that my all my asshole parents cared about was their money and their reputation. I know that they were horrified that their only child—who was expected to be a perfect, prissy debutante—was a tomboy. I know that they were constantly disappointed in me because they never passed up the opportunity to tell me so."

Michiru's tense stance eased, a look of concern replacing the angry scowl on her face.

"I know that they shipped me off to boarding school as soon as I was old enough to try to straighten me out. I know that the other girls at boarding school made fun of me . . . until nighttime, when I was good enough to kiss in the dark. I know that later, they all wanted to experiment with me, confessed that they liked me, but swore me to secrecy."

"Haruka . . ." Michiru reached out, placing a hand on Haruka's arm, but Haruka batted it away angrily.

"I know that those girls turned on me. I know that none of them stood up for me when I was expelled after getting caught in the showers with them one too many times. I know that my parents were so disgusted with who I was that they disowned me. And I know that the only place I feel free is here. So don't tell me I don't know city people, Princess. Because I do."

Haruka turned away, breathing hard as she tried to control her emotions. Michiru gave her space, wondering how long she had been bottling up her anger; how long she'd been hiding herself away.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, Michiru," Haruka said, her head drooping.

"It's alright," she softly reassured her.

"No, it's not." Haruka turned to face her again. Michiru noticed that her eyes looked a little red. "It's not ok. You were right. I am the asshole here. I'm still letting my parents affect my life, and I took what they did out on you." She shook her head, laughing bitterly as tears began to fall. "God, I'm a fucking mess."

Michiru stepped toward Haruka, closing the distance between them.

"Hey," she said, once again placing her hand on Haruka's arm. This time, Haruka didn't fight her. "It's OK to be a mess. Those bigots . . . what they did was so, so wrong. After what you went through, you have every right to feel this way. Your feelings are valid. _You_ are valid, just the way you are."

Haruka reached up, wiping her eyes with a gloved hand, then engulfed Michiru in a tight embrace. After overcoming her momentary shock, Michiru reassuringly wrapped her arms around Haruka and rubbed her back, feeling the taller woman shudder as she cried. Eventually, Haruka's breathing steadied. She loosened her embrace, bringing one hand to Michiru's nape, tangling her hand in the hair cascading out from beneath her hat.

"I'm sorry, Michiru," she said, resting her cheek on Michiru's head.

"What? No, please, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I just . . . I shouldn't have taken that out on you."

"True, but I get the feeling you've been bottling that up for a while."

Haruka chuckled. "Only about 15 years."

"I'd say it was time," Michiru said. She pulled back from Haruka's embrace, then gasped as she caught a glimpse of the sky. "Haruka, look!"

Haruka looked up, draping her arm across Michiru's shoulder as she shifted to stand at her side.

In the night sky, ribbons of soft electric green snaked, blurring and morphing as they danced their celestial ballet. Never had Michiru seen anything like it—the spectacular Aurora Borealis. She watched in awe as the lights meandered through the sky, amazed at their depth and beauty. Splotches grew and morphed, changing color—becoming a bright, pale green or deep, rich emerald—then fading, growing more uniform and falling back into place among the ribbons of light. It almost seemed to Michiru as if she were witnessing an enormous, heavenly watercolor painting being painted across the sky.

"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" she asked, looking over at Haruka. She was surprised to find that Haruka was watching her, not the sky.

"Yes," Haruka said, looking at Michiru, "I have."

Michiru felt Haruka's look deep in the pit of her stomach and this time, there was no doubt or hesitation in Haruka's actions. As she leaned down, Michiru met her kiss, wrapping her arms behind Haruka's neck to pull her closer. She let out a blissful sigh as Haruka deepened the kiss, her hands grasping, firmly pulling Michiru's body fully against her own. Michiru felt overwhelmed, drowning in Haruka's desperate passion, her bulky, gloved hands roaming over Michiru's body—on the small of her back, her neck, in her hair, grasping her ass—even has she sucked and nibbled Michiru's lips, her tongue delving, expertly exploring Michiru's own.

They stayed there, lost in one another on the frozen lake beneath the dancing sky, until Haruka regained control, finally pulling back, placing her forehead on Michiru's. They were both breathing hard, soft clouds of steamy air coiling between their faces.

"I'm sorry," Haruka said. "I hope that was OK."

Michiru laughed. "Trust me, that was more than OK."

Haruka grinned. "I've been wanting to do that all night."

"And I've been wanting you to," Michiru said, leaning up to give her a quick kiss, wrapping her arms around Haruka's waist. She leaned into Haruka's warm embrace, sighing happily as she once again caught a glimpse of the Northern Lights.

"Thank you, Haruka," she said, "for sharing all of this with me."

"It's my pleasure, Princess."

They stayed there, wrapped in one another's embrace, watching the sky until the Aurora faded in fits and starts, until nothing was left but the moon and stars.

"Well, Princess?" Haruka said as she rubbed Michiru's arms. "Should we head back?"

Michiru nodded, not truly ready to leave their sanctuary, though her frozen feet and drooping eyelids disagreed.

Soon they were back on the snowmobile, heads encased in thick helmets, making their way back to Haruka's garage. Michiru savored Haruka's closeness, this time having no qualms about holding on as tight as she wished as she laid her tired head on Haruka's back. All too soon the lights of Haruka's garage appeared through the trees.

Haruka dropped Michiru off at the main garage to warm up while she took care of the snowmobile, and Michiru wasted no time in stripping off her soaked-through boots and socks and hanging up her soggy coat, scarf, and hat. If only her clothes weren't hopelessly buried beneath piles of art supplies in her car, she could change out of her wet leggings, too . . .

She settled onto the old couch again, sighing when she caught sight of the time on the old clock on the wall. It was 2AM and her car was still dead. Michiru was beginning to accept that she probably wasn't going to make it to semester on time, but somehow, it didn't seem quite as important as it did before.

Haruka entered the side door a few minutes later, face pink from the cold.

"You want some dry clothes, Princess?" she asked as she hung up her own coat and hat. "I have some PJs that would probably fit you."

"Oh my gosh, really? That would be great, thank you." She remained on the sofa, not wanting to impose herself on Haruka's privacy by assuming she was welcome in her private living space.

Haruka made her way to the stairs leading to the loft and began to climb them, but paused when she realized Michiru wasn't following her.

"You need an invitation?" she asked with a smirk. "Come on up."

"Oh!" Michiru hopped up, quickly following Haruka up the stairs and into the loft, which turned out to be set up like a studio apartment. A small kitchen lined one wall while an unmade bed sat opposite, clothes strewn on the floor nearby. A loveseat that had seen better days was sitting in front of beat-up coffee table and flat-screen TV, the one nice item in the room.

Michiru looked around, finally spotting Haruka rummaging through an impressive pile of clothes on the floor of her closet.

"Ah ha!" she declared, triumphantly holding up a pair of plaid drawstring pants and a sweatshirt featuring the logo of a motorcycle race Michiru had never heard of. "What do you think of these?"

"Perfect," Michiru said, reaching out to take them from a yawning Haruka.

"Hold on and I'll find you some socks." She returned to the pile, somehow finding a matching pair and sniffing them. "I think these are clean," she said. "They were in my clean pile, at least."

"If they're dry, I'll wear them," Michiru said, sitting on the bed to put them on her frozen feet.

"I'll just get changed and then get back to work on your car."

"You're going to work on the car again?"

"Sure, it's not fixed yet, is it?" she said, stripping off her oil-stained hoodie and picking up a fresh one.

"Haruka, seriously? It's 2 in the morning."

"So what?"

"Haruka, it's OK. I'm exhausted and I'm sure you are too. I'll talk to the dean in the morning and figure something out."

Haruka frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Plus there's no way I'm driving anywhere tonight . . . I'd fall asleep at the wheel."

"Yeah, that's a good point," Haruka conceded.

Michiru got up from the bed, gathering up the borrowed clothes. "I'll just get out of your hair so you can go to bed."

"What do you mean?" Haruka asked. "Where are you going?"

"To my royal chambers, of course." She smirked at Haruka's puzzled expression, then pointed to the door. "You know, the sofa?"

"Oh. Oooooh. The sofa. Right." She stood still, watching as Michiru made her way to the door, finally cracking when Michiru's hand reached the doorknob. "Wait!"

Michiru turned back to Haruka, a confused look on her face. "Did I forget something?"

"No, I just . . ." She paused, clearing her throat. "It gets pretty cold down there and, uh . . . I was just wondering if you'd be more comfortable in here. Y'know. In my bed. With me."

Michiru's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You want me to stay with you?"

"Yeah, I mean, we don't have to _sleep_ together, just, y'know, sleep . . . in the same bed . . . together. . . ." Haruka stumbled over her words as she fought down a blush. "You know what I mean, right?"

Michiru smiled, slowly making her way back to the bed. "I know what you mean," she said, dropping Haruka's borrowed clothes on the loveseat.

"Because I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Right, I definitely don't want to be uncomfortable," Michiru agreed, stripping off her shirt and throwing it beside the bed.

"And I . . . uh . . . don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

Michiru stopped directly in front of Haruka, swiftly pushing her onto the bed.

"Don't worry," she said, climbing onto the bed to straddle the blonde. "That will _not_ be a problem."

* * *

Have you ever seen the Northern Lights? I did just once, but I'll never forget it.

Thank you to everyone who fav'd, followed, and commented on this fic! And thank you to Antingone2, as always.


	3. Chapter 3

"Haruka?"

Michiru opened a bleary eye at the lack of response and was surprised to find herself alone in the bed, cocooned in blankets. She propped herself on her elbow, looking around the dark room, but found it empty. Rolling over to look at the clock on the bedside table, she groaned when she saw that it was already after 6.

She and Haruka had gone to bed a little over 4 hours ago . . . but they hadn't done much sleeping. They had both agreed that their time together had no strings attached, but that didn't stop them from spending the wee hours of the morning making love and talking, sharing as much of their histories, desires, fears, and dreams as they possibly could before falling asleep in each other's arms.

She smiled, recalling the details of their time together. Michiru had a long, exhausting day ahead of her, but she wouldn't trade her night for anything in the world. It had been a long time since she had connected with someone like that. There was just something about Haruka . . .

She sighed. Figuring she should track down her host's whereabouts, Michiru got up, shivering in the cold morning air, searching for her discarded clothing on the floor. Finding her leggings, she grimaced when she realized they were still a bit damp, and decided to put on the clothes Haruka offered the night before instead.

Opening the door to the garage, she padded down the stairs, quickly spotting Haruka under her car, which was high aloft the hydraulic lifts.

"Hey you," she said as she approached Haruka, who ducked her head out from under the car. "What are you doing up already?"

"I couldn't sleep," she confessed, not quite looking Michiru in the eye. "I figured I'd come down here and make myself useful."

"Make any progress?"

"Yep. Turns out it was your dizzy."

"My dizzy?"

"Your distributor."

"Oh . . ."

"I repaired it best I could, but you should replace it once you get to Northwaters."

"Wait, you're saying it's fixed? I can get to Northwaters today?" Michiru asked.

"Yep, it'll be ready to go in a few."

"Haruka, thank you, seriously," she said, stepping closer.

"No problem," Haruka said, waving a hand and turning away. "The princess needs to get to her castle, right?"

"Yeah . . ." Michiru looked down, not feeling quite as relieved as she thought she would at the news that her car was once again drivable.

"You should probably get showered and hit the road if you want to get there on time," Haruka said.

"Right, good idea. Oh, can I throw my clothes in the dryer while I shower? They're still a bit wet . . ."

"Sure."

"Thanks." Michiru smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Haruka turned away, once again disappearing below the car as Michiru returned to the loft to shower.

By the time she was clean, dressed in dry clothing, and had called the dean to assure her that yes, her car was fixed and she would be there on time after all, Michiru's car was off the lift and nowhere to be found. Thankfully, as she came down the stairs, the side door opened and Haruka stepped in, kicking snow from her boots.

"Just loaded your car onto the tow truck," Haruka explained. "I'll tow you to the highway since the back roads haven't been plowed yet."

"I see. Makes sense."

"It's ready to go whenever."

Michiru nodded. She glanced at the clock, realizing that she had just enough time to make it to Northwaters by 9 if she left right away.

"Just give me a minute to gather up my things," she said, proceeding to hunt down the various items she had left in the garage the night before.

A few minutes later, she was bundled up and back in the cab of Haruka's enormous truck and headed back to the highway. It was still dark out, and the tow truck's headlights illuminated their way as they steadily plowed their way through the snowy roads. The ride was quiet—both women lost in their own thoughts.

As they approached the highway, Haruka cleared her throat. "Like I said, you'll need a new distributor once you get to Northwaters."

"Right."

"Take it to Von Holdt," Haruka said, parking the truck and turning on the hazards. "He's a buddy of mine. Does good work."

Michiru nodded, making a mental note to remember the name.

"I uh, changed your oil," Haruka said, her voice sounding slightly scratchy. "And topped off your antifreeze and windshield wiper fluid."

"Haruka," Michiru said, turning to the other woman, "you didn't have to do all that."

Haruka didn't answer, instead exiting the truck's cab without a word.

Michiru sighed, wondering if their one-night-only, no-strings-attached evening had more than a few lingering threads. She certainly had no regrets about what had happened; she just hoped that she hadn't inadvertently hurt Haruka in any way.

She bit her lip, thinking of how withdrawn Haruka had been all morning. Maybe it hadn't been wise to go all in so fast, after all.

Michiru stared ahead at the sky, now lightened to the rich blue of pre-dawn, listening to the steady and sure sounds of the tow truck's hydraulics as her car was lowered to the street. Hearing her car start, she opened the door, jumping into the snowy street clutching her belongings. She found Haruka standing beside the car, her elbow propped on the open driver's side door, an unreadable look on her face. Squeezing by her, Michiru tossed her things into the car, then stood to say her goodbyes.

"Haruka—" she began, but the crushing hug she was suddenly engulfed in cut her off. Overcoming her momentary shock, Michiru returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around the taller woman.

"Michiru," Haruka whispered into her hair, "thank you."

Michiru chuckled into Haruka's chest. "For what?"

"For everything. Last night . . . it meant a lot. More than you know."

Michiru tightened her embrace for a moment. "You know, Northwaters isn't really that far from here . . ."

Haruka shook her head sadly, pulling away. "I think . . . I think I need to work on myself for a while, y'know?"

"I understand," Michiru said, nodding.

Haruka cleared her throat. "You'd better get going."

Michiru sighed as she climbed into the car. Haruka held onto the door, shutting it closed once she was settled, then backed away from the vehicle, her hands tucked in her pockets.

After arranging her things, Michiru looked back at her rescuer, then rolled down her window.

"Hey," she called, waving Haruka over. Haruka walked back to the car, leaning down and folding her forearms across the open window's sill.

"What's up, Princess? Forget something?"

Michiru smiled. "A goodbye kiss," she said, tugging on Haruka's jacket through the window. Haruka was only too happy to oblige. Though it was brief, Michiru tried to put as much emotion as she could behind the kiss. _You aren't just some meaningless one-night stand to me,_ she hoped it said. _I'll be thinking of you . . ._

Breaking apart, Haruka lingered for a moment, resting her gloved palm on Michiru's cheek as they gazed at one another, until the sound of another truck coming down the road prompted them to break apart. Haruka stood beside the car as the noisy truck pulled up next to them and the driver rolled down his window. Michiru quickly recognized driver as the middle-aged gas station attendant from the night before.

"Need any help?" he asked them.

"Nah, everything's good, Joe," Haruka told the man, who was peering into the car.

"Hey little lady," he called to Michiru. "Did Tenoh get you sorted out?"

"Oh, she sure did," Michiru replied with a subtle smirk. "Thank you so much for the recommendation."

"Sure thing! Glad it worked out," he said with a friendly smile.

"Me too," Michiru said.

"Have a safe drive. See you 'round, Tenoh," he said, waving out of the open window as he drove off.

Haruka turned to face Michiru once again, the ghost of a blush on her cheeks. She sighed, shaking her head.

"Great. That man's the biggest gossip in town."

Michiru furrowed her brows. "I didn't get you into any trouble, did I?"

"Nah, these people had me figured out a long time ago," she explained, waving her hand. "But you passing through here is probably the most exciting thing that will happen in this town all winter. It's probably all they'll talk about for months."

Michiru giggled into her gloved hand. They looked at each other for a moment, but Michiru's smile slid soon from her face and she turned away.

"I'd better get going," she said.

Haruka nodded, patting the roof of the car.

"Thanks again," Michiru told her, a sad smile on her face.

"Sure thing," she said, stepping back from the car. "Oh, and Princess?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some snow tires, will ya?"

Michiru smiled. "Got it."

Rolling up her window, she waved, then maneuvered her car around Haruka's truck. She flicked her eyes to her rearview mirror, watching Haruka's unmoving figure grow smaller and smaller, finally disappearing as she turned onto the highway.

The first tendrils of dawn that snaked across the pastel sky went unnoticed by Michiru as she started the last leg of her journey north. Instead, her thoughts remained with the woman she had just left behind.

* * *

"Hand me that torque wrench, will ya, Joe?"

"Sure thing!" Joe said, momentarily pausing his monologue about the latest townie gossip.

After handing Haruka the wrench she requested, he resumed his chatter and returned to the folding chair he had set up by Haruka's workstation—his usual spot when he stopped by on his days off.

Haruka went back to tuning him out (as usual) as she finished replacing the break pads on her Harley—one of the last tasks on her maintenance checklist before she hit the road the following day.

Joe didn't mind her lack of attention. All he needed was a warm body to talk at and he could go on for hours. Haruka was just thankful that she herself wasn't the current topic of conversation; after Michiru's brief stay, speculation over Haruka's love life was indeed the most exciting topic of local gossip for the rest of the winter, just as she had predicted. If Joe weren't like a brother to Haruka she would have throttled him long ago for his big mouth.

He was still droning on (Haruka had long since moved on to the next item on her checklist) when the sound of a car pulling into Haruka's driveway drew his attention.

"Tell whoever that is to go away, will ya?" Haruka asked, engulfed in her work.

"No problem," he said, getting up as a car door slammed shut. Haruka could hear him conversing with someone outside as she worked.

"Hey Tenoh," he called from the doorway a few moments later, "I think you should come out here."

Haruka turned to yell, but Joe was already gone. She sighed, cursing Joe as she peeled off her gloves and tossed them on the ground by her bike.

"What is—" Haruka stopped in her tracks as she stepped through the doorway. There was Joe, casually chatting with a woman wearing a soft summer dress and a wry smile; a woman with beautiful waves of teal hair that had fueled many of Haruka's fantasies in the cold winter months.

"Well, I think I'm gonna get goin'," Joe said with an annoyingly satisfied smile, shaking Haruka from her trance. She looked over at him, inwardly cringing with the knowledge that she had just regained her spot as the #1 topic of local gossip.

"Oh uh, right." Haruka cleared her throat as he made his way to his enormous truck.

"You have a good trip, you hear?"

"Sure thing, Joe," she said, returning her gaze to the woman casually leaning against her car.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" he said, starting the truck.

"Right."

"Good seeing you, little lady!" he yelled, waving as he drove off.

The two women stood still, watching each other in silence as the sound of Joe's truck faded into the distance.

Finally, Michiru spoke.

"I realized something very important after I left," she said, slowly walking toward Haruka. "I was halfway to Northwaters before I realized it."

Haruka stood rooted to the spot as Michiru approached.

"You see," she continued, coming to a stop dangerously close to Haruka before pulling a credit card out of her purse, "I realized I never paid you."

Haruka looked down at the card, then back at the mischievous look in Michiru's eyes. She smiled, crossing her arms.

"Sorry, your money's no good here."

"Really?" Michiru asked, leaning closer.

Haruka nodded, reaching a hand out to touch Michiru's arm. She felt warm and soft and achingly real.

"Well in that case, I think my car could really use an oil—"

Haruka cut her off, crushing her lips to Michiru's. Michiru happily sunk into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Haruka's neck as Haruka grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to deepen the kiss for a few moments before calming, softening the kiss to something more tender, more meaningful. Michiru sighed happily into Haruka's lips, content in her embrace. Eventually they broke apart, and Michiru leaned her head against Haruka's chest, both slightly overwhelmed.

"Not that I'm complaining," Haruka said after steadying her breath, "but why are you really here, Michiru?"

Michiru picked at Haruka's worn T-shirt as she considered her answer. "To tell you the truth, you've been on my mind a lot, since that night. You're not an easy person to forget."

Haruka smiled. "I know what you mean, Princess." She kissed Michiru's head, reaching a hand up to entwine her fingers in Michiru's hair. "To tell you the truth, I couldn't really forget you, either."

"Really?" Michiru asked, looking up at Haruka.

"It's not often that a beautiful woman creates award-winning art about our night together," she said, smirking.

Michiru's eyes widened in shock. "How do you know about that?"

"I maybe sort of looked you up on the Internet after you left."

"You _did_?"

Haruka nodded, thinking of the lonely night two weeks after Michiru's departure when she finally caved, booted up her ancient computer, and googled Michiru.

"Yep. I found your blog and, well, I guess I just kept checking it to see what you were up to up there. And when I saw the big piece you did . . . well, it brought back some memories."

She smiled, remembering how shocked she had been after seeing videos of the completed art installation. Michiru had somehow managed to capture that night on the lake—the bite of the cold wind, the delicacy of the snow, the majesty of the aurora all around—with mirrors and lights and fans and god only knew what else all carefully arranged and contained in a single room. It had garnered quite a bit of attention from the art world and wound up being quite the coup for the little college.

"Haruka! I can't believe you used the Internet because of me! I'm honored," Michiru teased.

"Well, you should be," she said, then softened her eyes, stroking Michiru's hair. "Seriously, though, congratulations."

Michiru smiled. "Thank you, Haruka. You helped inspire _Aurora_ , after all. I was just trying to recapture the feeling of being there on that lake with you that night. It was nice, actually . . . every time I worked on it I got to think of you."

Haruka breathed in deeply, running her hands up and down Michiru's back as Michiru once again laid her head against Haruka's chest.

"Are you OK with me being here?" Michiru asked.

Haruka chuckled, wrapping her arms around Michiru. "I'd say I'm more than OK with it."

"Are you . . ." She paused a moment, considering her words. "Have you been doing any better? Since the last time I was here?"

Haruka took a breath, exhaling slowly before answering. "I am. I found a . . . uh . . . therapist. A few towns over. She's helped me work through some things. Helped me let go of a lot of anger."

"Haruka . . . I'm so happy for you," she said, tightening her hold on Haruka.

"I mean, I still have more work to do, but I'm getting there. I'm a work in progress."

Michiru looked up, smiling at Haruka. "Yeah. I think we all are, really."

They gazed at each other, both still a little stunned at being together again after so many months apart.

"So," Michiru said, stepping back a bit, "your big road trip starts soon, yeah?"

"Yep. Tomorrow, actually. I was just tuning up my bike when you got here."

Michiru looked down, fiddling with a lock of her hair. "So I was wondering . . . I mean, you don't have to, but what would you think about me sort of . . . joining you?"

Haruka raised her eyebrows. "You want to come with me?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be the whole way if you don't want, but—"

"Hold on a second," Haruka said, cutting her off. She turned and jogged into the garage, returning a few moments later with her hands behind her back.

"So," she said with a smile, "you want to know what I think?"

Michiru nodded, still a bit nervous about Haruka's reaction. But her fears were put to rest when Haruka pulled a motorcycle helmet from behind her back—a helmet airbrushed in waves of blue and teal. Across the front, _Princess_ was artfully written in gold cursive.

"Haruka . . ." She held out a hand, delicately running her fingers over the lettering. She swallowed, blinking back the tears that were suddenly pricking her eyes. "I can't believe this . . ."

"Well," Haruka said with a lopsided grin that made Michiru's heart skip a beat, "I figured that you needed inspiration for your next big piece, right?"

Michiru gave a watery chuckle, nodding in agreement. Haruka stepped forward, placing the helmet in her hands.

"What do think?" she asked, running her hands along Michiru's bare arms. "Want to give this a go?"

It was plain to Michiru that Haruka wasn't just talking about their road trip. A smile bloomed across her face as she looked into Haruka's hopeful eyes.

"Absolutely," she said, wrapping her arms around Haruka's neck and pulling her in for a kiss. "I'm ready for our adventure to begin."

* * *

That's it! Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks again to my bae-ta and to everyone who has commented, followed, and fav'd. YOU are my fav's! :)


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